


Adrenaline

by JennaLee



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: First Time, Friends to Lovers, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-27 23:54:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17776622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennaLee/pseuds/JennaLee
Summary: Arin isn't sure when the flirting stopped being a joke.





	Adrenaline

**Author's Note:**

> This work is a commissioned piece. Send me a message at j-lyn on tumblr if you're interested in commissioning me!

“What are you staring at?”

Dan’s hand on his shoulder brings Arin back to earth with a start. Arin drops his can of La Croix from about two inches off the table. It lands upright, but some of the liquid sloshes up and sprays right in Arin’s eye.

“Sorry,” Dan apologizes, but his attempt to sound contrite is spoiled by his grin. “You were zoning.”

“Nah.” There’s water in Arin’s eyelashes. It’s like he’s looking at Dan through a kaleidoscope. He wipes his eye with his sleeve. “I was staring at your hot bod.”

“Yeah?” Dan’s grin gets bigger. He leans against the fridge and cocks his hip, running his hand up his shirt and dragging some of his T-shirt up with it for half a second. “Like what you see?”

Arin grins back. He can’t help but remember how, years ago, Dan’s face would grow tight and uncomfortable for an instant whenever Arin threw him a bold compliment. He’d always laugh, though, maybe a little too loud, like he had to be all over-the-top to make sure nobody would ever accuse him of actually _liking_ the attention. But he does, he always has, and through their years of friendship Dan’s confidence had emerged. 

Arin doesn’t realize he’s still staring until Dan laughs and strikes a pose, shoving up his sleeves and flexing both biceps. “If you wanted free tickets to this gun show, all you had to do was ask.”

“Dude,” Arin says, doing a bit of a double take. “You’re really committed to doing the weight thing lately.”

“Yeah?” Dan’s eyes light up a little, the way they always do when someone pays him an unexpected compliment. “It’s that noticeable?”

“Yeah man, you’re fuckin’ jacked.” 

Dan shakes his head and blows a curl out of his face. “Just because they’re not useless noodles anymore doesn’t mean I’m jacked. My arms are like, half the size of yours.”

“Your _everything_ is half the size of mine.” 

Dan lifts an eyebrow and smirks. “Everything?”

Arin rolls his eyes. “We all know about your third leg, okay?”

Dan laughs appreciatively and sidles toward Arin, his left arm out. “See,” he says, putting his arm against Arin’s. “Look at yours, that’s insane. You could fucking, throw me like a javelin.”

Arin looks, but he doesn’t see much of a comparison. Dan’s sinewy and rangy, his muscles stark beneath his skin. Whatever muscle Arin has is covered in fat. His arms and legs don’t have the same definition. He flexes, and his arm jumps, but it doesn’t look much different from its usual state. Maybe a little less flabby. 

“I’m just big all over,” Arin says, just for the sake of filling in his end of what’s supposed to be a conversation. 

“Yeah, and you’re a beast in the gym.”

Arin shrugs. “I haven’t been going as much.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m kind of stuck in a rut, you know? I gained all that weight in Japan and just. Normally I would have lost it by now.” Arin wonders where this is coming from. He’s usually not this self-conscious, even though his weight is a constant struggle.

Dan circles around to stand between Arin and the table, getting close enough that his legs are touching Arin’s knees. He squeezes Arin’s arm, his palm warm against Arin’s skin. “Well, what the fuck ever. You look good.”

“Yeah?” Arin feels a bead of sweat running down the back of his neck. Like a moron, he says, “You look good too.”

Dan stares at him, and the silence stretches on a little too long. Arin’s mouth is dry and there’s something dark and inscrutable about Dan’s gaze that is sending his heart into overdrive. It’s like they’re both waiting for each other to make the inevitable joke that will veer everything firmly into familiar territory, but the joke never comes. 

And suddenly Dan blinks as if startled. 

“We should go back to doing the morning workouts at your place together,” he says, and his boyish grin is at odds with the mild panic in his eyes. “I liked that.”

Arin stumbles over his words. “We, uh, yeah. Yeah, we should.”

“Good.”

Arin stands up, fully expecting Dan to move with him and sidle aside, except Dan’s slow to react. For a split second they’re pressed against each other, chest to chest, and Dan sucks in a breath that feels like it pulls all the air from Arin’s lungs.

And then, at once, they both pull away.

“So, uh.” Arin runs a hand over his hair. His palm is sweaty as fuck. “You ready to record in a bit?”

Dan clears his throat. “Yeah, just gonna finish up. Um, were you thinking maybe an hour? Two?”

Arin’s brain feels like scrambled eggs. “I don’t care. Come get me when you’re done? I’ll be in my office.

“Okay, yeah, sure.” Dan tugs at a curl that falls into his face. “That’s, yeah. I’ll do that.”

“Sure, dude.” Arin grabs for his rapidly warming La Croix. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Sure, dude,” Dan echoes. “See you.”

**

It doesn’t feel like as much of a big deal several hours later. It wasn’t the first time they had pushed the boundary between friendship and something more. It probably wouldn’t be the last. It was just a joke, and the two of them were close enough that they could joke around that way without it feeling weird.

He doesn’t tell Dan what they’re playing until after they start. When the title screen loads, Dan’s smile slides off his face and his eyes narrow in suspicion.

“Arin,” he says, and even just the fucking tone of his voice has Arin fighting a snicker. He struggles to keep a straight face.

Dan glares at him accusingly. “Arin!”

“What!”

“You didn’t tell me this was gonna be another horror game!”

“You didn’t ask.” 

Arin’s ready for the jump scare right at the beginning, where the alien creature oozes beneath the door and attacks, but Dan is not. He shrieks satisfyingly and covers his eyes. 

“What is that?” he almost screeches. 

“The Blob,” Arin says, monotone. “Dude, I don’t fuckin’ know. It’s this oil slick thing that chases you.”

“I _hate_ it,” Dan declares, with great vim. He narrows his eyes at Arin. “Are there a lot of jump scares?”

Arin just shrugs, barely containing his grin. “Maybe.” 

Dan groans and pulls himself into a ball, like a pill bug. 

An idea occurs to him then, so perfect it almost makes him wiggle in excitement like Mochi when he hears the sound of the bag of treats being opened. He says, “Dan, guess what.”

Dan gives him a sidelong look. “Chicken butt.” 

Arin nearly spits. “What are you, nine?”

“Only in inches,” is Dan’s smooth comeback. He looks incredibly pleased with himself.

“Yeah, now I don’t even feel bad about this.” Arin reaches over and dumps the controller in Dan’s lap. “You’re playing this one.”

“Yeah, right!”

“The fans want you to play more, Dan.” Arin throws down his trump card. “Do you want to disappoint the fans? Do you not care about our fans, Daniel?”

“Oh, you bastard,” Dan breathes. He picks up the controller, making a face - probably at how warm and sweaty Arin’s left it - and sighs. “I’m too old for this. I’m gonna have a heart attack, and it’s going to be your fault.”

“I know CPR.”

“That’s…not what you do for a heart attack.”

“It’s what you do when you want some sweet tongue action from your best friend.”

“What is it with you and taking advantage of me?” On screen, Dan is being cautious. He chooses the first door in his path and picks up an item. “First it’s secret HJs in my sleep, and now you’re gonna cause my early death just to get your gross tongue in my mouth?”

“What’s gross about my tongue?”

“I don’t know where that thing’s been.” Dan ends up going in a circle and realizes he’s back where the game had started him. “Fuck, stop distracting me. This shit’s hard.”

“So am I.”

“Ha, ha, Arin. Shut up and help me with this.”

“Help you how?”

“Fuckin’, support me, dude. Support me emotionally. I need you. Aw, no, what the hell, get your hand off my leg!”

“I’m supporting you.”

“I meant, like, encourage me, but - you know what, never mind.”

Curiously, he doesn’t actually seem to mind that Arin never pulled his hand away. Arin debates asking why, debates making a joke about it, and in the end decides to do neither. His hand just sits there, lightly grasping Dan’s skinny thigh, his fingertips inches away from the huge rip in the knee of Dan’s jeans. It sort of blends into the background after a time, there but not forgotten. Arin’s okay with that.

Dan’s reactions are pure gold. Arin especially loves the way he gets embarrassed after every time he yells or jumps. His giggles are contagious, and Arin’s having a hard time following the convoluted plot because he keeps glancing over to see Dan’s face.

“Why are we playing this?” Dan moans. “Why am _I_ playing this?”

“Because you’re cute when you’re scared,” Arin says, watching Dan’s hands shake on the controller as the oil slick monster follows him up the deserted stairwell.

“A-rin!” Dan whines. “Now I’m terrified _and_ horny.”

Arin could let it go there, but he doesn’t. He pushes. “That’s what I fuckin’ like to hear,” he says, letting the deep timbre of his lower range take over.

Dan giggles once, and goes quiet.

Arin doesn’t dwell on it. He casts his mind around for another joke, another subject to lead, because it’s easy when he’s not the one playing the game. He comes up with an anecdote about a trip he went on the previous weekend, and Dan keeps up his end with an occasional question or well-timed laugh.

They play for nearly an hour before Dan announces his need for a break. He throws the controller to the side with a deep breath of relief and turns to Arin. “You don’t actually want me to finish the game, do you?”

“Probably not. How many episodes did we get there? Four, five? Maybe we’ll do one more and call it quits.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Arin’s hand is still on Dan’s thigh. Dan starts to jiggle his other leg up and down, restless.

“You need to go grab anything?” Arin asks.

Dan shakes his head. “Nah. Not going anywhere. Just needed a few minutes to relax.”

“Yeah. Yeah, same.”

“Let’s just chill?”

“Sure.”

**

Arin wakes up with a start, noticing immediately that he was not in his bed, not anywhere in his house. 

The room is a deep inky black, so dark Arin can’t see a foot in front of his face. It takes a second for him to get his bearings and realize that he’s facing the back of a couch. He rolls over, and there is light, all soft glowing reds like some haunted house, and it’s faintly spooky until Arin’s brain wakes up the rest of the way. Then he sits up and finds himself staring at a TV. The screen is frozen on a pause menu.

The pieces fall into place. Couch. TV. The lingering smells of garlic and lemongrass from the Thai food they’d plowed through earlier. And speaking of _they_ \- 

There’s a misshapen lump of blankets beside him, but Arin can’t tell if Dan is buried somewhere inside or if he’d slinked away after Arin passed out. Arin remembers Dan ordering food for both of them, remembers eating too much green chicken curry. His eyelids had been drooping and his gameplay went from bad to barely recordable. Dan had been leaning against him, a nice warm weight, and the temptation to close his eyes had just been too much. 

Arin reaches out and pats at the blankets until he feels the distinctive shape of Dan’s bony-ass knee. Dan’s got his legs all tucked up and his head drooping down onto his chest, and Arin doesn’t know how long they’ve been asleep but Dan’s probably going to wake up with one fuck of a neckache and the mother of all leg cramps.

“Hey,” Arin whispers into the darkness. He’s not sure why he’s whispering, but it feels appropriate. It’s like they’re in limbo, locked together in this timeless void that exists somewhere outside of the rest of the universe. It could be six PM, or midnight, or five in the morning. He nudges Dan’s leg and says, “Danny” in a soft voice. When that gets no reaction Arin tugs at the blanket until it slips away from Dan’s face. He can see the outline of Dan’s hair, the frizz on the surface of the curls reflecting the light redly. When he concentrates, he gets the shape of Dan’s face, the slope of his nose and the shape of his open mouth. He’s even more dead to the world than Arin. 

Arin could speak louder, but he doesn’t. He sits up straight and shuffles over, tilting his upper body into Dan. He digs an arm under the blanket, fumbles around until he’s able to grab Dan’s legs and gently pull them out of their bent position one at a time. Dan’s head falls into a more natural position all on it’s own. And Dan doesn’t wake up, doesn’t react at all except to make a tiny, faint sigh of content.

Arin gets a wave of Dan’s scent, soft and organic, just skin and hair oil. It’s a familiar smell, comforting, a nice sense of familiarity in the void. Arin had been planning on murmuring Dan’s name again closer to his ear, but something stops him. He just rests there, half horizontal, nestled up to Dan’s side. 

The quiet is nice. So is the feeling that he could just lay here forever. Time isn’t real if he doesn’t acknowledge it. The silence is infinite, intimate.

It might have been three or thirty minutes later when Arin hears Dan’s breathing change. Suddenly the lump of blankets is moving on its own. Arin keeps his eyes closed and listens as Dan goes through the motions of waking up, turning his head from side to side, realizing where he is. Arin expects him to sit up, maybe shake Arin’s shoulder. But instead he rolls to the side, moving slow as if he doesn’t want Arin to wake up at all.

Arin holds his breath as Dan snuggles up against him. 

Dan being affectionate isn’t new. They’d been closer than this before. They’d slept on the same couch. In the same bed. But something about this feels different. The atmosphere feels charged, tense. Somehow he knows Dan’s eyes are open. That he’s gazing at Arin’s face. 

The hairs on the back of Arin’s neck stand up and he fights the urge to shiver beneath the scrutiny. He hears Dan’s breath hitch, hears him swallow once.

Arin opens his eyes. Even in the semi-darkness he can see Dan looking back at him. They hold their gaze for three seconds that feel like three years. And then Dan inhales sharply and sits bolt upright.

“Arin,” he says, and Arin thinks he sounds - embarrassed? Frazzled, maybe. Or maybe he’s just confused, like Arin had been when he’d woken up.

“Hey.” Arin sounds calmer than he feels. He swallows against his dry throat. “What’s up?”

“I think we fell asleep.”

“You think?” Arin laughs and pretends to scrub the sleep out of his eyes, giving him a chance to work on composing his expression into something that would make Dan believe he’d just woken up.

Dan tugs at his hair. “What time is it?”

“You tell me. You’re the one glued to your phone when I’m playing.”

“Oh.” In the red light, Dan’s whole face is already rosy, so there’s no way to tell if he’s blushing. Arin thinks he might be. “Right. It should be on the table…”

But he makes no move to grab it.

“I’m still tired,” Arin says softly. “How about you?”

“Mmm. A little.”

“We could nap a while longer. Maybe we need it.” 

“Yeah, maybe.”

Arin brings his legs up and lays down fully on his side, legs stretched and feet propped up over the arm of the couch. Dan is shunted forward by the movement, perched on the very edge.

“It’s cold in here,” Dan says into the silence. It’s an odd thing to say. There’s a blanket, and his own hoodie is in here somewhere, too. It’s almost as if Dan’s waiting to be asked, waiting for Arin to say it.

Arin’s never been one to back down from a challenge.

“Here,” Arin says softly. “I can fix that. Lay down.”

Dan responds almost immediately. Arin’s big frame takes up most of the couch, but Dan’s still able to lay on his side, his back pressed to Arin’s chest, his lower body pressed to Arin’s hips. It’s just natural in this position for Arin’s arm to rest over his chest, curling softly, holding him in place so he won’t roll off the edge of the couch.

“How’s that?” Arin whispers. Dan’s ear is right next to his mouth, and Arin’s breath makes him shiver. Dan doesn’t respond, not right away. Arin closes his eyes and just floats there, in the dark limbo, his heart beating like a drum. If they both stay quiet, neither of them will know if and when they fall back asleep.

Minutes later, or hours later, Dan says, “Arin” in a voice that nearly sounds like it could have been murmured in Arin’s head, in some dream. Arin doesn’t answer. He’s not sure why.

“Arin,” Dan whispers again, to no avail. Then Dan’s turning, moving, and at first Arin thinks he’s trying to get up. But he’s not - he’s rolling, careful in his movements, staying within the small space allotted him on the couch. Rolling in Arin’s arms, so they’re pressed together chest-to-chest. Dan’s nose brushes against Arin’s cheek, and Arin feels the warm puff of air as Dan sighs contentedly.

They’re so close. Either one of them could just - move an arm, shift a leg, and they’d be - holy shit, they’d be kissing. 

Arin can’t help himself. He angles his head until he feels the tips of their noses touch, and then he stays there, close enough that the bristly hairs of his moustache brush against Dan’s upper lip. Dan seems to be holding his breath - like he’s waiting for something, maybe for Arin to deliver on his promise.

Arin’s heart pounds harder at the thought of it. Nobody can see him, nobody can see them here in the darkness. It could happen. He could do it. 

But he doesn’t. They lay there together, locked in silence, a frozen moment in time. 

Arin doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to sleep like this, his mind rolling over and over, thinking _what if? what if we just - ?_

And then Dan closes the distance, and his lips are on Arin’s, and they’re kissing. They’re actually fucking kissing, but Dan’s not really _moving_ , just keeping his mouth on Arin’s with his lips slightly parted. Arin sucks a breath of air through his nose and gently closes his mouth over Dan’s bottom lip. He feels Dan’s warm exhale, the way it comes out shaky, like he’s terrified. Arin doesn’t want to push him, doesn’t want him to run, doesn’t ever want him to stop. He breaks the contact gently and says, in a murmur, “Dan.”

Dan doesn’t answer. Arin opens his eyes and sees Dan’s still face, eyes closed. He looks asleep. Arin, who had been expecting some sort of conversation or at least a reaction, is startled into silence. 

_Did that really just happen?_

“Dan,” he whispers again, and Dan does not move.

Eventually, Arin falls back asleep. And when he wakes, Dan is gone.

**

They don’t talk about it. It’s like it never happened. 

When he sees Dan the next day, Dan smiles at him and starts to talk about his excitement over their upcoming album release with convincing innocence. Arin stares at him, his eyes searching Dan’s face, but Dan doesn’t let the eye contact stick. After a while Arin thinks he’s doing it on purpose. And when they end up alone in the kitchen together Dan suddenly feels the need to go to the bathroom, and scoots off without a backward glance.

Arin’s torn between frustration and self-doubt. Half of him wants to grab Dan by the shoulders and just push him up against the wall, get right in his face and ask _what are we doing?_ or _why won’t you just talk to me about this?_ Or maybe, _can we please do that again?_

The other half of him wonders if it was all just a dream.

Somehow the weekend melts away and it’s Monday again. Arin stops at Wendy’s on his way to the office, which turns out to be a bad idea. The guy in front of him orders enough food to feed a small army and Arin ends up being late to the weekly Grumps meeting. When he walks into the meeting room, everyone looks at him, and for a second he feels absurdly like a kid walking into math class past the bell. 

Then Ross, sitting on the floor like an idiot instead of on either of the two long couches. says sarcastically, “Oh, thank you for finally blessing us with your presence, _Arin_ ,” which brings a muffled giggle from somebody. It’s all fun and games; the atmosphere in these meetings is always relaxed, just a chance for everybody to talk about new changes or ideas.

Arin says automatically, “Shut up, Ross” and searches for a place to sit. Ross could definitely squeeze in somewhere, but Arin can’t. There’s an extra chair that nobody ever wants to sit in because it’s hard as a fucking rock, and it’s the only spot open.

Dan’s in the coveted spot in the corner, where the couch is extra-squishy because the springs had broken the one time Ross was jumping on it during a modified game of indoor dodge ball invented by Matt and Ryan. With his long limbs all tucked up and the rest of him half-sunken into the couch, Dan looks like he’s in the process of getting digested slowly by a Venus flytrap. He’s on his phone, totally distracted, but when he looks up, he brightens when he sees Arin. Even that small gesture puts Arin in a good mood.

Brian’s sitting next to Dan, leaving about a foot of space. Dan pats the cushion next to him invitingly. Arin looks at it and laughs. “Yeah, right.”

“Brian, shove over,” Dan orders. “Arin wants to sit with me.”

“What is this, fifth grade?” Brian grumbles as the other three people on the couch scoot over inches in turn. It still doesn’t leave much room.

Arin says, “It’s fine, I can just take the chair.”

Dan grins, stretches out his legs, and pats his thighs instead. Arin feels a swoop in his belly, but he laughs at Dan good-naturedly and plants himself in the chair.

Brent sighs and taps the whiteboard with the capped end of a marker. “I feel like a kindergarten teacher. Is everyone ready or do we need to start having assigned seats?”

The chair was not designed for someone of Arin’s size. The backs of his thighs already hurt. But he just says, “Sorry, Brent. Go ahead” in the tone Suzy liked to describe as his big boss voice, which works to settle the room.

About halfway through, the meeting almost always loses steam and turns from an organized speech to a collection of idiots shoved into a room with a whiteboard full of bullet points. Brent’s good at handling this, at listening to all of their conversations and weeding out the relevant topics, letting them blow off steam before guiding them back on track. Usually someone tries to mess with him, drawing dicks on the whiteboard or something equally immature, and Brent will banter right back. Despite all the fooling around, they usually do get stuff done. 

During all the commotion Dan wriggles his way out of the couch and says, “Be right back. Bathroom.” Nobody seems to notice him go but Arin. 

As soon as he’s gone Arin’s off the chair like a shot, getting across the room and into the corner seat before anyone can even blink. “Aaah,” he sighs as he melts into the squishiness like a pat of butter on toast. It’s so much better. It’s got to be hell on his back, but fuck it. It’s comfy.

“Hey!” Dan protests when he comes back. “That’s my seat!”

“You snooze, you lose.” Arin shrugs. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Dan looks straight at him, then marches straight to the couch and sits down fully in Arin’s lap.

 _Oh jesus._

“Actually,” Dan wriggles a bit. “Whoa. This is better than the couch. Arin, your thighs are so squishy. I love it.”

“Don’t fucking wiggle around like that,” Arin groans. “Your ass bones are grinding into me.”

“My ass bones?” Dan laughs. “My ass doesn’t have any bones in it.”

“Arin can fix that for you,” Ross says before anyone else can grab the obvious joke, and everyone laughs, even Brent. Arin laughs too, even as he feels his face go hot. He can’t see Dan’s reaction to the joke.

“Your ass technically does have bones,” Brian corrects Dan. “The sitting bones are the lower portion of the pelvic outlet.”

“I’ll thank you not to talk about my pelvic outlet,” Dan says primly. “So what did I miss besides Arin being a filthy thief?”

There’s some more appreciative laughter, and then things just - continue. Dan starts talking to Tucker as if he’s not fucking _sitting in Arin’s lap_ , jesus, and Ross gets up to add to the big brainstorming web on the whiteboard. Arin’s pretty much stuck. Dan’s weight isn’t overwhelming but he keeps shifting around to maintain his balance. It doesn’t take long for Arin to realize that his body is reacting to the friction. The heat is gathering in his groin and he feels the tell-tale fullness in the front of his boxer briefs.

Dan wriggles again and Arin bites his tongue. He brings one hand up, hoping nobody else will see it, and pinches Dan’s thigh in a desperate plea.

Dan makes a noise and jerks his leg. The motion makes his upper body fall back against Arin’s chest. He leans his head back on Arin’s shoulder and whispers, “What was that for?”

“Stop _moving_ ,” Arin grits out under his breath, right into Dan’s ear.

“Why?”

Arin can’t answer that. But when Dan sits back up, he slides a little bit further down Arin’s thighs, and Arin’s erection ends up pressed up firmly against Dan’s ass.

There’s no fucking way he doesn’t feel it. There’s no fucking way he doesn’t know what it is. Arin’s sure that Dan will slither off Arin’s lap, red-faced, and go quietly sit elsewhere without calling attention to the whole situation. Arin tenses, his heart in his throat fully ready to sit up once Dan is gone and try to cross his legs or something to make his bulge less visible. He’s already thinking about jokes that he can make after to ease the tension. Dan’s going to either be mildly freaked out or maybe just sympathetic, and either way it’s going to be awkward. 

But Dan doesn’t move. He stays where he is, his back a little too stiff and straight, the clouds of hair hiding his face from Arin. And then, deliberately, Dan shifts, carefully redistributing his weight without taking the pressure off of Arin’s dick. The friction is just about fucking unbearable.

Arin fights not to gasp. He tries not to let his face betray what’s happening. Jesus fucking Christ, they’re in a room packed with people, his friends and employees. He squeezes Dan’s thigh again but Dan doesn’t move. 

All he can do is suffer through the rest of the meeting, uncharacteristically quiet. Dan, meanwhile, is the absolute opposite of quiet. He’s fully engaged in the discourse, gesturing as he speaks, making him bounce slightly in Arin’s lap. Arin deals with this by literally digging his fingernails into his palm until his dick calms down to a half-chub. From there he’s able to at least _act_ like he’s listening to other people, which gets him through to the end of the meeting, where everyone starts to wander off in twos and threes and Dan rolls off of Arin’s lap, seemingly unconcerned. 

“When did you want to record?” he asks Arin.

It takes Arin a few seconds to connect his brain with his mouth. “Uh.”

“I’m heading out soon,” Dan reminds him, with a little laugh. What was that in his voice? Arin narrows his eyes. Was Dan acting - smug? Fuck, he is, isn’t he? - he’s pleased with himself, or proud, and for what? For embarrassing Arin? Or for turning him on?

“What?” Arin says like a fucking idiot. His brain is going a mile a minute trying to decipher the subtext here. Dan seems oddly pleased with himself, like he’d gotten one up on Arin, but there’s something else there too. 

“I’m going up to work on the NSP tour schedule with the guys, remember?”

“Oh, yeah, sure. So you’re, uh, leaving.”

“Mmhmm,” Dan looks at him with deceptive innocence. “And I was just asking what time you wanted to link up tomorrow to record.”

“Right. Uh, I don’t know. When works for you?”

Dan shrugs. “I’m busy in the morning, but other than that…”

“You mind working late? Like, starting at…maybe seven?” 

“Alright,” Dan says easily. Maybe a little too easily. He’s doing that thing again where he’s not quite meeting Arin’s eyes. Arin looks at his face and suddenly sees an odd set to Dan’s features that he knows quite well. It’s the same look Dan gets when he’s asked to read lines on a set. It’s the same not-quite-Dan look of Alex in Good Game. It’s a very, very good facsimile. But Arin can tell the difference. 

“You okay?” Arin asks suddenly.

“Yeah, of course,” Dan answers quickly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just, you know. I don’t know.”

Dan tilts his head, affecting puzzlement, but Arin knows better. He knows Dan’s feeling the same fucking thing that Arin is.

“Well, anyway.” Dan carefully combs through his hair with his fingers. “I should…probably get going.”

“Yeah. Have fun, with the, uh - ” Arin scrambles. “ - the NSP stuff.”

Dan smiles at him, warm but distracted. “Yeah. I will, Arin. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Arin echoes. 

**

Arin can’t get him out of his head. 

Later that evening, warm with the glow of rumchata, Arin fumbles out his phone and sends a text to Dan. _Hey hot stuff, what are you wearing?_

He doesn’t really expect Dan to answer right away. He’s not even sure if Dan’s made it home yet. Their work days are irregular and Dan is a busy man. Arin nudges his phone onto the coffee table and watches the tail end of _Russian Doll_ as he debates ordering takeout versus actually making real food. 

But Dan surprises him by answering less than a minute later. _Nothing at all. What about you?_

Arin stretches out on the couch, grinning at what he assumes is a dumb joke. He snaps a picture of his pyjama pants - baby pink with Hello Kitty faces. _Nothin but these bad boys._

 _Cute,_ Dan sends back. And then Arin’s phone buzzes again, and Arin’s heart stops for a second when he sees the picture. It’s Dan’s bare legs, stretched out in front of him, beneath a layer of clear water. He’s taking a bath.

Arin scrambles for something to say. _Your tub is fuckin huge, dude_.

_Fuck, right? I love actually being able to take baths._

Arin lets out a breath. An image swims up in his head, unbidden. He’d only seen Dan naked once, for a split second, as he changed in front of Arin from his stage clothes. The moment had burned itself onto Arin’s memory. He can imagine, from that memory, what the rest of Dan looked like. And it’s fucking hard to get it out of his head.

 _I’m a jelly donut,_ Arin sends. 

_It’s so big, I bet you could fit in here with me._

And what the fuck, what is Arin supposed to do with that? His cheeks glow pink as he stares at the words, trying to imagine them being said in Dan’s voice. He can’t get a feel for the tone Dan would use. _Well, fuckin invite me over next time, then._

 _Maybe I will._

Arin’s body is buzzing, a low electric hum. That could be the end of it - Arin can’t think of anything else to add to that - but Dan doesn’t stop. He sends, _Do those pants have a matching shirt?_

_Somewhere._

_Show me?_

It seems obvious at first that Dan means for Arin to find the shirt and show him what it looks like. But the more he reads it, the more Arin wonders. 

He would never dare without the rumchata padding his confidence. Arin takes a deep breath and snaps a selfie of his upper body.

_Nice_

What the fuck? Arin rubs his eyes and wishes he was sober. _You like that?_

 _Hell yeah, more material for my spank bank._ Dan adds the cry-laughing emoji.

Arin’s a little disappointed that this was all a joke, but at the same time he’s relieved. At least he knows that they’re just bantering. It’s good to know. 

He nudges his phone onto the table and refills his glass. One more and he’ll probably wind up falling asleep.

He’s not expecting the phone to buzz again so quickly. Surely Dan wanted to finish his bath in peace. Arin fumbles for it and swipes his thumb to unlock.

_Got any more for me?_

Arin stares. Then he says, _What, I don’t get anything?_

_What do you want?_

_The good stuff. Send nudes._

_Haha  
One sec_

_Yeah fuckin’ right._ Arin holds his breath until the picture comes. When it does, he says out loud, “Holy shit.”

Dan had taken a picture from the chest down, his hand covering his actual dick and his thighs tucked together to hide the rest. The details of his body are a little blurry through the faintly soap-murky water, but Arin can see his pale thighs, the darker patch where they met, the trail of hair that led to his belly button. Dan’s hand is angled in a weird way, fingers totally outstretched instead of cupped inward like he would to cover himself while soft. The more Arin looks, the more he comes to realize that he’s pretty sure Dan’s sporting at least a semi. 

Arin is sweating. And he’s starting to get hard, too. He wonders what Dan would say if he just - if he just whipped it out and sent Dan an actual fucking dick pic. And then he wonders how drunk he is, to have that cross his mind like it was a reasonable thing to do.

This is a joke. Just a joke. Dan’s being funny. He doesn’t _actually_ want to see Arin’s dick, or show Arin his own.

But had it also been a joke when Dan had let Arin’s cock press up against the cleft of his ass, too? 

Had it been a joke when Dan kissed him?

Arin’s too drunk for this. He remembers the way Dan had just left him there without a word of explanation, and suddenly he’s kind of sad.

 _Fuckin rip-off,_ he texts Dan, lazily. _Where’s your dick?_

 _Haha,_ is all Dan sends back.

Just a laugh. Just a joke.

 _I’m passing out dude_ , Arin sends. _Goodnight._

Dan takes a few minutes to reply. Arin manages to finish his glass, wash his face, and brush his teeth before he hears his phone vibrate again.

_Oh ok  
Love you, big cat._

Arin’s heart double-thumps.

_Love you too, Dan._

**

Arin gets the recording equipment set up and the game loaded while Dan adjusts the mics. It’s taking him about ten times longer to do everything right because his hands are shaking so damn bad. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing, and this could backfire in a hundred different ways, but Arin doesn’t let himself stop to consider the consequences. He just barrels ahead, like a big dumb fuckin’ train, and maybe after this all blows up in his face he’ll finally ask himself why he does shit like this when he should know better.

Arin sits on his side of the couch, exhaling slowly. There’s a clear indent next to him, where Dan normally sits. In that indent, Arin had strewn some of his own things around - his hoodie, laptop bag, phone, and water bottle - effectively taking up the whole couch. He tries to make it look haphazard. As if it were an accident. Not that Arin wants to be dishonest. Just, it’ll make things a lot less weird if Dan doesn’t go along with this.

When Dan finally shows up, he looks at the couch, puzzled. Then he laughs. “Arin, what the hell? Move your shit.”

“Why?”

“So I can sit down?” Dan gives him a funny look. “Why’d you bring your laptop?”

“Doesn’t matter. You can still sit.”

“What, on the floor?”

“No.” Arin’s either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. “Your favourite seat’s right here.”

“What?” Dan asks, startled. “What are you talking about?”

“You can sit on my lap.”

There. It’s out, for better or for worse. Dan’s not immediately angry, which is a good sign. And he’s not running away, which is also good.

A lot of subtle changes happen on Dan’s face, and then he quirks one eyebrow. “What? You’re serious?”

“You’re the one that decided to treat me like a fuckin’ mall Santa Claus yesterday, dude.” Arin shoots back, almost like an accusation. 

And now that’s out too, and Dan can’t exactly deny it. 

Dan stares at Arin with something inscrutable in his eyes. Then he says, almost defiantly. “You liked it.”

 _Jesus._ Arin’s thrown by Dan’s boldness, but he doesn’t back down. “Maybe I did. What are you gonna do about it?”

Dan’s tongue flicks out to touch his bottom lip. He folds his arms across his chest. The mixed signals keep Arin on his toes, figuratively speaking. “Are you going to be able to play the game like that?”

“Like what?”

“With me on - ” Dan stumbles over the words. “With me on your lap.”

“Fuck if I know, dude, I’ve never tried it before. You might have to be the one to play.”

“If it’s another horror game, I’m going to stab you.”

“It’s not. Scout’s honour.”

“Like you were ever a fuckin’ Boy Scout,” Dan grumbles. He stares at Arin’s lap and sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. “Fuckin’ - okay, jesus, lean back so I can sit.”

Dan has none of the confidence leftover from the other day, where he’d plonked his tiny butt right on Arin’s crotch without hesitation. He takes forever just to turn around, and his movements are sharp and precise and over-careful. He gets himself aligned and turns around, his shoulders hunched like he’s tense, and when he doesn’t start sitting down Arin laughs and says, “You need help?”

Dan huffs, and _finally_ sits. He perches himself higher up on Arin’s thighs this time, prim and proper. His uneven weight doesn’t feel good, with how sharp and narrow his ass is and the way he’s holding himself. Neither of them are going to be able to reach the mics, and maybe this is the dumbest thing Arin’s done in a while.

“Dan,” Arin says softly, trying to salvage something. “Sit back.”

“You’re warm.”

“Yeah, and you’re always cold. Sit back, you’ll be comfier.” 

“Arin - ” Dan stops short. His tone is more measured when he says, “Comfier isn’t a word, you know. It’s _more comfortable_.”

“The mic can’t pick me up with you like this.”

“Fine, yeah, okay.” Dan sucks in a breath and tilts himself backward until he’s pressed flush against Arin’s chest. His ass slides down a little, coming to rest right where it had been before during the meeting.

“That’s so much better,” Arin sighs. He can still feel the sore spots on his thighs from the first position. 

“You’re actually comfortable?”

“Mmhmm.” It’s _almost_ too warm, but not quite. It’s the drowsy kind of warmth, where Arin’s eyes just sort of automatically close as his body tries to nod off. Dan’s hair smells good, a little more perfumey than when they’d fallen asleep together, but with that same nice underlying organic scent. Arin lets his nose brush against it and says, “What kind of hair stuff are you using?”

“Hmm?”

“Your hair smells good.”

“Doesn’t it usually?”

“Yeah. It just, it’s different than before.”

“Before,” Dan echoes, confused, and then, “Oh.”

The silence is a sudden wall between them. Arin had brought up the other night, for the first time. And now Dan’s remembering, and so is Arin, and why did the air feel so thick and heavy if it was just an innocuous little moment between two good friends?

Then Dan’s speaking, too fast and too choppy to sound like himself. “I think you’re, um, smelling, this oil stuff my stylist told me to buy. Argan oil with…something else. Avocado oil, maybe, I don’t know. I put it on today.”

“Oh.” Arin doesn’t know where to go with this. “It makes it softer?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

Arin reaches up and brushes his fingers through the unruly curls at the back of Dan’s head. Dan’s hair is always tangled and Arin’s fingers don’t exactly glide right through. He ends up snagged on a knot and Dan gasps, leaning his head back to relieve the pressure.

“Shit, sorry,” Arin says hurriedly, untangling himself. He pets Dan’s head and says, “Did that hurt?”

“A little,” Dan says huffily, but Arin smiles, because the awkwardness is gone and he can tell Dan is okay again. “Fuckin’ trying to scalp me?”

Arin doesn’t answer. He buries his fingers in the cloud of Dan’s hair until he’s touching Dan’s scalp, warm and dry near the nape of his neck. He gives it a rub with his fingertips, and Dan sighs. Arin rubs a little harder and feels Dan bend into his touch. That throws him off balance, and he almost stops - but then Dan makes a tiny questioning noise and Arin can’t help but continue.

“You like this?” he murmurs. The words just slip out.

“Yes,” Dan breathes back, and _oh_ , his fucking voice makes Arin’s pulse race. “Feels good.”

This is dangerous. Arin hadn’t anticipated this. He feels like he’s fucking drowning and he doesn’t even know which way is up. Dan’s remarkably close to his crotch again, and if this keeps up they’re going to have a repeat of what happened last time, only now without anyone watching. What if they didn’t have to stop?

Arin presses his fingers in a little harder, and Dan makes a noise that’s almost a moan. He chokes it off quickly, and the ensuing silence is unbearable.

And Arin, being a complete and utter idiot, says the first words that come into his head. “Dan, do you remember the night we fell asleep together?”

“What…” Dan shakes himself, like he’d been in a trance. “What?”

“That night,” Arin persists. 

“What about it?” Dan answers quickly. Too quickly.

Arin’s throat goes dry but he still manages to finally come out and say it. “Dan, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“About what?” Dan almost snaps.

“You know.” 

Dan’s entirely body goes rigid. “Arin - ”

Arin’s being an asshole. He should be smart enough to read the warning signs and back away, at least for now. But it’s so fucking _frustrating_ , the way Dan is lying to him, when they never lie to each other. Maybe what he wants is an apology - for Dan to explain why he’d just left Arin that night, without a word of explanation after. 

“You know,” he says again. “Dan, should we talk about it?”

Dan’s silent for so long that Arin almost can’t stand it. And then he says, like Arin’s being an idiot, “Are we here to play video games, or what?”

Neither of them had bothered to grab the controller, or unpause the game, or turn on the mics. Dan’s entirely aware that nothing work-related is happening. Furthermore, being the one pinning Arin to the couch, it’s fucking _Dan’s_ job to finish setting up and start playing. What the fuck is Arin supposed to do?

Arin is suddenly, desperately angry. He feels his face flush red-hot and he sits up without warning, jostling Dan. 

“Jesus, what - ?” Dan thrusts one arm out to brace himself on the couch and Arin grabs him by the wrist - not hard, but firm enough to cut him off.

“Stop pretending, Dan. Fuck.”

Dan’s jaw goes tense. “Listen, if you’re feeling, fucking conflicted about something, it’s not my fault, okay?”

Of all the fucking nerve. “Jesus Christ,” Arin growls. “Don’t you fucking put this all on me. Don’t you _dare._ There’s something happening and I think we need to talk.”

Dan freezes for a moment. Then he whirls, tugging against Arin’s grip until Arin’s forced to either let go or hurt him. He chooses the former - fuck, of course, he can’t hurt Dan - and Dan yanks his hand back like Arin’s touch burns.

“What the fuck,” Dan snaps. “You’re the one who wanted me to sit here.”

“What?” Arin asks incredulously. “Like you didn’t fucking want to? Like you didn‘t fucking - send me almost naked pictures of yourself last night, holy shit.”

Dan does a full one-eighty, bringing his knees up on the couch and straddling Arin’s lap. They’re face to face, inches apart, and Dan’s cheeks are red and his face is twisted and his hair is a golden halo, illuminated by the yellowish light of the TV. 

“Why are you doing this?” Dan demands. “It was a joke, okay?”

Dan’s light weight isn’t nearly enough to actually hold Arin down, but the idea of it sends fire racing through his veins. Arin stares up at Dan’s wild face, speechless. The raw beauty of him takes Arin’s breath away. He stares at Dan’s mouth, remembering with a deep jolt of frustration how they felt against his own, and suddenly he’s rearing up and sliding his arms around Dan’s waist.

“Arin - ” 

“You kissed me.” Arin says it in a rush. “We were cuddling right here on this fucking couch and you kissed me. Was that a joke, too?” 

Dan says nothing. 

“Oh, fuck you. Fuck you so hard, Dan. At least have the balls to admit it.” Arin, infuriated, runs his hands down Dan’s back too hard, making Dan hiss. But then Arin slides his palms firmly over the slight curve of Dan’s ass and Dan makes a low noise in his throat and lunges forward. 

Arin doesn’t know exactly what happens next. They’re wrestling, fighting for control, except all they’re doing is getting closer to each other. Arin ends up on his side, stretched out on the couch, and Dan rolls on top of him as if to pin him down, his legs bracketing Arin’s, and suddenly -

“Oh,” Arin says thickly when he feels the hardness pressing into his thigh. “Dan - ”

“Fuck.” Dan rears his upper body back, looking at Arin with mingled fear and anger. “Arin, I didn’t mean to - ”

Arin thrusts up one leg between Dan’s thighs, moving his whole body up just enough so that Dan’s hardness is pressed against his own. 

“Shut up,” Arin mutters, “just shut the fuck up, I know you want this - ”

Dan sucks in a breath so hard that it’s almost a sob. “Fuck - fucking bastard, you can’t just - ” He rocks his hips forward, rutting against Arin hard enough that the friction borders on painful. “Arin!”

“You kissed me.” Arin is going to lose his mind if Dan denies it. “Just fuckin’ say it!”

Dan’s hips stutter and he looks at Arin, the light in his eyes making him look half-crazed. “Fuck,” he says again, and before Arin knows what’s happening Dan’s kissing him again.

It’s not soft and gentle like last time. It’s rough and frantic, almost painful, nothing like what he’d imagined kissing Dan to be like. Arin doesn’t care - it’s still good, it’s still _Dan_ so he kisses back with equal fervor. Their teeth knock together and Dan’s tongue is clumsy when it pushes into Arin’s mouth, but _fuck_ , it tastes good, feels good. Arin gets his hips moving in sync with Dan’s, and they both moan when they get the angle just right. 

The friction builds and builds, and Arin can feel himself leaking pre-come all over the inside of his underwear, the damp fabric sticking to the head of his dick. He wonders if Dan’s feeling the same thing - wonders what Dan looks like when he’s jacking off, if he leaks a lot like Arin, the tip of his cock shiny and slick. His arms move restlessly over Dan’s back, his sides, finally back to his ass. When he squeezes, Dan cries out and buries his face in Arin’s neck. 

“Fuck,” Dan moans, muffled, and then Arin feels his teeth. The bite is almost too much, and Arin gasps at the pain - but then a half second later, the pressure in his groin hits the boiling point and Arin comes in his pants with a groan that reverberates through his chest.

He goes slack, limp and boneless, and Dan rears back. “Did you just- ”

“Shit,” Arin groans, head reeling. Dan’s still humping him, and he’s so oversensitive that it hurts. But he doesn’t care. He stares up at Dan. “Fuckin’, come on, come on, Dan, just come - ”

“Oh, my God,” Dan says, and then he’s grinding into Arin without rhythm until he slumps against Arin’s chest, panting.

Arin’s head is still spinning. It’s like being drunk. He feels disgusting, all tacky in his jeans, and his neck hurts where Dan bit him, but he’s elated, too. He wraps his arms around Dan’s shoulders, stroking his back, thinking about all the things he was going to say once Dan had come down a little.

And then suddenly Dan’s scrambling off of him, off of the couch altogether, his eyes wild and panicked.

“Fuck,” he says in a small voice. “Oh, fuck.”

“Dan, it’s okay.” Arin manages to sit up, and Dan backs way the fuck up. “Dan!”

Dan’s shaking his head, looking all around him as if to pick up the scattered pieces. “No,” he mutters. 

That single word pierces Arin’s chest. “It’s okay. Please.”

Dan shakes his head again. “I’ve gotta, I’ve gotta go.”

“Wait, fuck.” Arin fights to get on his feet too. “Dan, don’t go, please - ”

Dan’s already going for the door, hand scrabbling at the knob like he’s forgotten how to use it.

“Dan, please.” He’s actually begging now, and fuck, he sounds like a whining little baby and he can’t help it. “Don’t run away from me again.”

Dan pauses, head bowed, back heaving.

Arin seizes his chance. It all pours out of him in a rush. 

“I’m sorry this all happened the way it did. But - fuck, Dan, I wanted this. I wanted you. I’ve wanted you for a long fucking time, and I thought maybe - that you finally wanted me, too. Dan, I - I love you.”

Dan looks at him, his face blotchy, his eyes wide - and then he’s gone, the door slamming shut behind him with finality.

**

Arin doesn’t hear from Dan for days.

After the explosion in the Grump room, Arin practically limps to his car, grateful that he doesn’t run into anyone else from the office on the way. His phone is on the seat next to him and Arin wonders if calling Dan would do any good. Eventually, he decides against it. Dan needs time to get home safely, to get his dirty clothes off, have a shower. Maybe once he has time to process everything he’ll be okay. 

Or maybe Arin’s ruined everything for good.

He feels guilty when he sees Suzy, and she can see it too, as plainly as if he’d written it on his forehead. She doesn’t even ask what happened. She just says, “Baby, did something happen with Dan?”

She holds Arin in bed as he tells her everything. She doesn’t speak, doesn’t interrupt, and when she’s done she’s not angry. Not that Arin had really expected her to be. She knew everything about him, including his hidden feelings for Dan that he’d repressed for years, and she had already told him he had her blessing. She loved him, and she loved Dan too. She’s almost as upset as he is about Dan leaving him there after their brutal confrontation.

“What if he hates me?” Arin whispers out loud in the darkness. “What if he never wants to see me again?”

“He’s just scared, Arin.” Suzy’s hand is so soft as it caresses his knuckles. “Everything happened too fast.”

“I didn’t mean it to.” Arin’s eyes burn. “I was stupid, wasn’t I? Baiting him like that, and then - ”

“Shh.” Suzy taps his palm. “We talked about this, right? You always rush to blame yourself.”

“I know.” He does. “But I could have handled this better.”

“You both could have. But you’re human, and you’re not perfect. And it’s going to be okay.”

Arin stays quiet. He doesn’t want to contradict her, but he isn’t sure she’s right.

“Baby, I promise.” She brings his hand up to her mouth and kisses it. “He loves you. He just needs time.”

“What if I don’t want to wait?” Arin’s still a little mad. He’s mostly upset, but there’s anger there too. Anger at Dan for not accepting his part in all of this. 

“That’s up to you. You don’t owe him anything.”

“I sense a but.”

She smiles. “I was going to say, but you’ve already forgiven him, so.”

“Have I?”

“Arin.” She snuggles up to his side, slotting against him perfectly like she always does. “Just sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

As always, she’s right.

**

_Can I come over?_

Arin simultaneously sheds twenty years and shits himself. Metaphorically. He’d been waiting for Dan to text him first, and it had been fucking agony not to hear from him. He was beginning to think that he’d fucked up so hard that he ruined his entire career. But if Dan wanted to see him in person, it couldn’t be so bad. Unless it was to kindly tell him in person to fuck off forever, which - wasn’t likely, okay, but Arin’s emotions are kind of all fucking over the place lately.

Suzy makes up an errand and leaves within ten minutes with a kiss for good luck. And then, twenty minutes of frantic pacing later, there’s a knock at the door that nearly makes Arin pass out.

When he opens it, Dan steps in and hugs him. 

Arin says “Oof” as all the air is squeezed from his lungs. 

“I’m sorry,” Dan croaks. “Fuck, Arin, I’m sorry.”

Arin moves tentatively as he brings his hands up to rub Dan’s back. “I’m sorry too.”

“Can I come in and sit down?”

“Fucking of course, dude.”

They go into Arin’s living room, where Dan sits and faces Arin. “I shouldn’t have run.”

“You’re here now. It’s fine.”

“It’s not.” Dan looks at him openly. “You were direct with me, and I - I should have appreciated that. I should have been mature enough to deal with - with what happened.”

Arin nods, his stomach sinking a little. It sounds like Dan’s about to gently tell him that this was all a big mistake.

Dan takes a deep breath. “There’s something I should have said to you, that night.”

Arin’s ready for it. He nods, says, “What is it?”

Dan doesn’t break eye contact. “I love you, too.”

Arin feels the words blossom inside him, filling him with warmth. Whatever happens now, Arin can handle. Dan still loves him. Dan isn’t scarred forever.

“I’m sorry I pushed you,” Arin says, and means it. “I promise, I never planned for that to go down the way it did.”

“And I never meant to run away that one night when I kissed you.”

Arin’s jaw drops. For the first time, Dan had acknowledged it. Dan was standing tall and proud, not backing away from the truth. 

“I was scared,” Dan goes on, more slowly. “I…it was so _good_ , Arin, and I’d never…not with another guy, you know that, and I didn’t expect…”

“It was kind of unexpected.”

“Yeah,” Dan says, relieved. “I mean…things have felt weird for a while, but I didn’t know how to deal with them.”

“How have things felt weird?”

“It’s not you, it’s me. Fuck, that line sounds bad. But I mean it. I…just started to look at you more, and when we joked around it felt…like _more._ We’ve said crazy sexual stuff to each other before but it never felt like anything but a joke. But suddenly it was like…we were dancing around something I could never even acknowledge, let alone talk to you about, and it was making me feel insane. But then we fucking kissed, and - but you were half asleep, and I wasn’t even sure…”

“I was awake.”

“Right, yeah.” Dan looks relieved. “But it still shocked me. I didn’t want to unload my stupid confused feelings on you when you were sleepy, so I…just went home. That was a mistake. And then, at the meeting - ”

“When you sat on me and gave me a boner.”

Dan’s cheeks flush. “That was all me? Like it wasn’t already just…there?”

“Grump meetings don’t generally give me boners. You wiggling your ass around in my lap, though…”

“A-rin!” Dan laughs and scrubs at his face, the gesture so typical Dan that Arin grins. “I didn’t mean to um, rile you up. At first it was actually a joke. Or maybe I just wanted to see your reaction. But then I noticed, um, what was happening and it - it surprised me. That I liked it, I mean. I went from thinking about work to thinking about - well - things I’ve literally never even considered before - and after it was over I just blocked it all out.”

“Oh? What kind of things?”

Dan gives an embarrassed half-shrug. “It felt, um. It felt really good. Knowing you were excited and just…fuck, you know. I was thinking maybe, it was me that made you feel that way. But it was in public, so that was weird, and then after…I was freaked out. I guess I thought maybe I could deny it and just make it all go away.”

“Understandable.”

“Is it, though?” Dan shakes his head and grimaces. “It wasn’t fair to you. To act like I didn’t notice, or didn’t care. But, Arin, I…I do care, and I - I want you.”

“I want you too. Fuck, Dan, more than anything.”

“But,” Dan says, even as hope blooms warm over his face. “Suzy…”

“She’s cool with it. She knows I love her and won’t ever stop, and she‘s not jealous. She’s fucking amazing, Dan.”

“Shit, I’d say. She knows - what happened?”

“Yeah.”

“And she’s not mad at me?”

“No. She loves you, too.”

Dan exhales. “Jesus. I - we - this is - fuck, Arin, can this really…”

“Was that a sentence?”

“Oh, fuck you.” He’s smiling, nearly grinning. “Just - can we maybe - try this whole thing again? Properly?”

“Which part?” Arin feels devious. “The part where we kiss, the part where you sit on my dick, or the part where I make you come?”

Dan turns from pink to cherry-red. “A-all of the above?”

“Good answer.”

“Do you want to, um.” Dan looks around. “Just - here? On the couch? Or - ”

“There’s a bedroom,” Arin says, amused. “You know, where I sleep.”

Dan swallows thickly. “You want to go to your bedroom, then?”

Arin literally can’t think of anything else he wants more. “Fuck yeah, dude, let’s go.”

Dan laughs, a little disbelievingly, and runs a hand over his hair. “Okay, holy shit.”

Arin offers him a hand up from the couch. Together they make their way to Arin’s bedroom. It’s embarrassingly messy, and Arin almost wants to apologize, but then he remembers that this is just _Dan._ He’s not going to care about the underwear on the floor or the rumpled bedspread or the slightly lopsided curtains. And, sure enough, once Arin turns around to say something dumb like _make yourself at home_ , Dan’s taking him in his arms and suddenly they’re just - kissing, again, with no hesitation at all. 

Arin has to grab onto Dan for balance as his world tilts crazily. The sensations overwhelm him and Dan doesn’t give him any time to adjust, just slides his hands up to cup Arin’s head and coaxes his mouth open with his tongue. 

Arin should have known that Dan would kiss like this. He had more experience than Arin, at least with kissing different people, and he’s probably used to taking charge. Arin yields to him, pretty much unable to do anything else as Dan licks into his mouth, pulls back, sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and grazes it with his teeth. Dan moves fast, and somehow his hands are up Arin’s shirt, and then the shirt is over Arin’s head and on the floor, and before he can even blink, Dan’s shirt joins it. 

This part isn’t even weird. Arin’s taken off his pants in front of Dan so many times that it’s no big deal to shove his sweatpants down, and Dan has no problem in following suit with his jeans. It is weird, though, to know that he’s allowed to look, allowed to drink in all the details of Dan’s body without being afraid. Dan’s checking him out too, and when their eyes meet he grins a little sheepishly and says, “Whoa.”

“Right?”

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” Dan puts his hands on Arin’s sides, stroking up and down as he stares at the bulge in Arin’s underwear. Arin can tell he’s a little shocked, but nothing about his gaze is fearful. Nervous, maybe. Excited-nervous. He’s not backing out. His eyes slip back up to Arin’s, and whatever he sees there makes his lips part and his eyes darken. He pulls Arin close and kisses him again. The heat of their bodies pressed flush against each other is instantly overwhelming.

“Jesus,” Arin gasps when Dan pulls back to let him breathe. He’s already throbbing in his pants and all they’d done was kiss. “We should have done this a long time ago.”

“Yeah?” Dan has a wonderful smokiness to his voice when he pitches it low, and it makes Arin wobbly in the knees. “How long have you wanted me to?”

“I don’t know. Years.”

“Years?” Dan echoes. “Seriously?”

“It’s hard to look at you every day and not want to fuck your brains out.”

Dan‘s grin is almost bashful, but his next words are not. “You ever think about doing that?”

“What?” Arin’s heart practically explodes. “Fucking you?”

“Yeah.” Dan leans in, kissing Arin’s neck. “Have you?”

Arin can’t speak for a moment. Dan’s leaving little suck marks all over the side of his neck, and it’s distracting, to say the least.

“I,” he starts. “I’ve thought about, in the Grump room.”

“Got a thing for voyeurism?”

“No. Fuck. Just - thought about what you’d do if I got on my knees for you, or if I offered to show you what it feels like to, um.” He swallows. “Have someone finger you, since you said you were curious.”

Dan lets out a breath. Arin can feel it, cold on his neck where Dan’s mouth had been. “Have you ever done that? The, um, first part. I know you’ve done, that you’ve, fingered yourself, and gotten, you know. Pegged.”

Arin smothers a smile. Dan is half sex god and half shy, sweet angel, blushing and avoiding the explicit terms. The man is a total fucking oxymoron. “Are you asking me if I’ve ever sucked dick? Because no, I haven’t.”

“Oh,” Dan says. “Okay, yeah. Is it something you want to try? Because I don’t know if, the other thing…I’ve never…”

“Thought you liked it.” It’s Arin’s turn to rise to command, now that Dan’s a little uncertain. He runs his hands up Dan’s small waist, splays his fingers over Dan’s chest, brushes his thumbs across Dan’s nipples. That makes Dan moan, so Arin does it again, and again, rubbing little circles around the hardening buds until Dan shudders with pleasure. “What else were you thinking about when you sat on my lap and felt my dick?”

“Okay.” Dan shuts his eyes and his voice drops to a whisper. “Okay, yeah, so I’ve thought about it.”

The images are hot enough to sear Arin’s brain. “Yeah. Yeah, me too.”

“But - maybe not - I might need a lot of preparation before we do that.”

“I’d prepare you real good.” Arin leans in to brush his tongue over Dan’s right nipple, flexing it into a point and swirling it suggestively. Dan can hardly fail to notice the implications of that. He actually whimpers, and the sound goes straight to Arin’s dick.

“Mental preparation, Arin,” Dan says weakly. “Jesus fuck.”

Arin doesn’t want to push too far. He drops that subject, for now, and touches the waistband of Dan’s boxers instead. “Is it okay if I - ?”

Dan considers. “You first.”

“Okay.” Arin takes a deep breath and peels his boxers down his thighs. His cock springs out, so hard that the downward curve is less pronounced than usual. 

“Oh.” Dan sucks in a gasp. “Oh, jesus.”

“Yeah?” Arin murmurs, taking himself in hand and giving himself a few long strokes. “This is okay?”

Dan’s eyes follow the movement. “S’good,” he says, roughly. 

“Not weird?”

“A little weird.” Dan suddenly laughs. “I’m being inducted into the fucking D Club.”

“Not until you show me yours.”

“Yeah?” Dan cocks an eyebrow. “Well, I guess fair’s fair.”

“Holy shit,” Arin says when Dan’s underwear hits the floor. He stares, dumbfounded. It’s far from the first erect dick he’s seen in person, but it’s definitely the biggest, and the prettiest, if that could be a word used to describe a cock. He has a lot less hair than Arin does, and it’s so neat that he’s sure it’s been trimmed. Where Arin goes nearly purple with arousal, Dan’s a delicate rosy pink just at the very tip, and it stirs something inside of him. He doesn’t even realize that he’s reaching out to wrap his hand around it until it’s there, and Dan’s cock is in his fucking hand and Arin’s stroking him, slow and measured.

Dan gasps and clutches Arin’s waist. “God, Arin,” he chokes, and thrusts forward. His cock slides through Arin’s fist, and the feeling is insanely familiar and utterly foreign all at once. 

“That’s good? You like that?”

“Mmmh,” Dan breathes. “Fuck, of course I do.”

“You wanna try it on me?”

“I, um.” Dan looks at Arin’s dick for a long moment. “Yeah. Yeah, alright.” 

There’s a funny awkward moment as he tries to reach out with his left hand and realizes that it’s not going to work, with Arin using his right hand on him. They both laugh, and Dan says, “I can switch, I just might be clumsy.”

“You never jack it with your other hand? Just for variety?”

“Well yeah. On myself, it’s easy.”

“Same thing,” Arin says, panting a little, because it feels like the temperature’s rising and he’s starting to sweat. 

“It’s not.” Dan tentatively curls his fingers around Arin’s cock, squeezing him gently.

“Jesus Christ,” Arin rumbles as Dan quickly acclimates and starts stroking Arin to the rhythm Arin’s using on him. “See, you’re fuckin’ good at this.”

“Am I?” Dan likes being praised. His touch becomes bolder and he rubs his thumb across Arin’s tip. “Jesus, you’re wet.”

The words punch Arin right in the stomach and he finds himself unable to speak. His hand moves faster, getting a feel for what Dan likes, and Dan returns the favour and speeds up, too. 

The friction rapidly spirals into an overwhelming heat that comes over him so fast Arin nearly faints. He gasps and says, “Wait, hold on” and Dan freezes mid-stroke.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Dude,” Arin says, breathing deep to hold it back. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

Dan’s eyes widen as if he hadn’t considered it. “Already?”

“Why? You’re not close?”

Dan squints. “Well. I mean…okay. I swear, I normally last a lot longer, but - ”

“I think we’ve both been waiting for this for a long time.”

Dan nods, grateful for the excuse. Then he laughs. “Okay, you wanna slow down? Maybe get on the bed and just kiss for a while?”

That sounds good to Arin, and the two of the tumble onto Arin’s bed. Dan pushes Arin onto his back and rolls on top, kissing him hard. Arin, giddy and playful, uses his strength to flip them so their positions are reversed. Dan struggles, laughing, his lips red and kiss-swollen, and Arin pins his wrists over his head and nuzzles into his neck. Dan’s laugh gets cut short when Arin nips at his neck.

“Fucking vampire,” Dan says. “Ow - oh, fuck, Arin, mmmh…”

“Yeah?” Arin does it again, and doesn’t miss the way Dan’s cock jerks when he feels Arin’s teeth. 

“Arin,” Dan says pleadingly, struggling for freedom. “A-Arin…”

“What?” Arin’s enjoying this hugely. “What do you need your hands for so badly?”

Dan growls and bucks his hips into the air. “Fuckin’ - ”

“You’re the one that suggested we slow down.”

“That was ages ago,” Dan protests. “Arin, please!”

“It’s been like twenty seconds. Please what? You want my hand on you again?”

“God, yes, please.”

Arin waits a beat. “Or would you rather have my mouth?”

Dan stops struggling and stares, jaw dropped, until Arin says “I guess that’s a yes” and promptly drops Dan’s hands so he can wriggle down to the foot of the bed, straddling Dan’s lower legs. Dan’s body is a thing of beauty - so many lines and angles, and there’s something incredible about his tiny curved belly, the jut of his hipbones. Arin kisses just beneath Dan’s belly button, which makes him giggle, and laves his tongue over Dan’s right hip. It tastes so good that he closes his mouth and sucks a hickey there, and Dan makes a contented sigh as Arin trails kisses down his thigh.

And then - “Arin!” Dan almost squeaks as Arin leans in and kisses up his shaft, too. “Holy shit, Arin!”

Arin looks up at him and grins before swiping his tongue up the path he’d just traced with his lips. He’s not at all bothered by his own lack of experience. He can’t imagine that Dan won’t like it, and besides, it’s kind of awesome that he’s finally doing this after wondering for so many years what it would be like. It’s not weird, even though maybe it should be. It’s just sex, just the familiar intimacy and the sort of generic muskiness of crotch that transcends gender. Arin fists his hand around the base and fits his mouth over the head, and from there it’s simple, just keeping his lips over his teeth and trying his best to make Dan moan.

Dan is loud as fuck and Arin loves it. He strokes Arin’s head, pets his shoulders and says, “Arin, fuck, you look so good doing that. Like hell you haven’t done this before, what the fuck, _oh_ , jesus that’s good.”

Arin closes his eyes and loses himself in it. Dan’s cock pushes his mouth wide, heavy on his tongue, and the sensation is incredible. Dan’s moans grow louder, fueling Arin’s desire, and the longer he sucks the more saliva there is to make everything easier. His lips slide up and down while his hand strokes the last few inches - Arin’s not particularly keen on trying to get the whole thing down his throat, which just seems stupidly adventurous for the time being.

It doesn’t take long for Dan’s noises to raise in pitch, for his legs to start trembling. Arin feels the shaft swell even further in his mouth, and he knows what that means even before Dan gasps out, “Arin, hey, I’m gonna, any second - ”

Arin grips Dan’s hip with his free hand and sucks harder. 

It’s less eventful than he anticipates. Dan makes a loud cry, his hips bucking, but with Arin’s hand on the base of his cock it can’t go any further into his mouth. He spurts over the back of Arin’s tongue, warm and thick, and it’s just second nature to swallow. The taste is mildly bitter, mildly salty, but it’s not as gross as Arin might have guessed. He squeezes Dan’s shaft and swipes his tongue over the head to collect the last tiny spurt, and then he looks up at Dan and smacks his lips, grinning. Dan looks absolutely fucking _floored_ and it’s the best thing about the whole experience. 

“No way you haven’t done that before,” Dan says weakly.

“That good? Did that totally rock your world, or what?” 

“You cocky bastard. I can’t believe you.” Dan pants for air, and Arin crawls up next to him. Dan looks over at him and says, “Like I’m supposed to top that?”

“I didn’t know this was a dick sucking competition.”

Dan huffs. “I just don’t want to return the favour with a sub-par beej, okay?”

“Dan,” Arin says, logically. “There is no such thing as a sub-par beej. Just don’t bite down.”

“Okay.” And then Dan pales, like he’d just realized what he was about to do. “Oh shit, Arin, this is really happening.”

“Only if you want it to.” That should be obvious. Arin still wants to say it.

“Right. Right.” Dan visibly collects himself. Then he gets himself settled near Arin’s hips as Arin props himself up against the headboard with a few pillows so it’ll be easier to watch. He doesn’t want to miss one goddamn second of Dan sucking his cock. Dan’s slow to start though, which is fair. Arin can imagine how nervous he is. Arin reaches down and takes himself in hand, holding his cock upright, offering it to Dan.

Dan leans towards it, and stops. He flips his hair out of his face, once, twice. He says, “Is there a hair tie in here?”

Probably - Arin’s sure that between Suzy and himself, there must be at least fifty - but instead he answers, “I can hold it for you.” 

“Yeah? There’s a lot of it.”

“I want to.” Arin likes the thickness of Dan’s hair, likes the thought of his fist at the back of Dan’s head, not holding him in place but gently encouraging him. Dan leans his head forward, still watching his cock apprehensively. Arin smoothes Dan’s hair into a messy bundle at the crown of his head and manages to get all of it into his hand.

“There you go,” Arin murmurs, and when Dan looks up at him, Arin’s dick pulses in his hand. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Dan says, and then he just - leans in and mouths clumsily at the head of Arin’s dick without warning.

Arin lets out a surprised moan. Dan pulls back, his lips already shiny from Arin’s precome, and Arin says, “No, fuck, please, do that again.”

Dan looks up at him through his eyelashes, seemingly totally unaware of how hot he’s being as he sticks his pink tongue out and caresses the underside of Arin’s cock. Arin moans low in his throat and a light kindles in Dan’s eyes. He does it again, firmer, more sure, swirling around the tip. And then he pulls back, takes a deep breath and drops his mouth wide. 

Arin’s fist tightens in Dan’s hair but he doesn’t yank that sweet hot mouth down further onto his dick, which is impressive given how fucking good it feels. “Come on, baby,” he groans. “Keep doing that.”

Dan actually tries to respond, humming _mmmh_ around Arin’s dick, and the vibrations nearly make him levitate up off the bed. Apparently Dan interprets Arin’s sharp moan as a sign to speed up, because suddenly he’s moving his head up and down in earnest, faster than Arin’s used to, the pressure of his lips never easing. Arin withstands a solid minute without blowing his load, which is a feat to be admired. But there’s only so long that he can last, so he decides to clear shit up before he freaks Dan out.

“Hey, hey.” Arin tugs at Dan’s hair and Dan shudders, making an obscene wet noise as Arin’s dick slips out of his mouth. “Shit, you really do love your hair being pulled, don’t you?”

Dan doesn’t even answer, just strains forward, like he’s desperate to get Arin’s cock back inside. Arin uses the grip on his hair to hold him slightly out of reach and, with his other hand, strokes himself slowly, lightly rubbing the head against Dan’s lips. Because really, he can’t ignore how goddamn hot Dan’s being right now, but he still has to slow down long enough to ask, “You want me to cum in your mouth? Do you want me to grab a tissue so you can spit?”

Dan considers. “Is it that gross?”

“It’s not bad,” Arin says truthfully.

Dan gets kind of a determined look in his eyes and says, “I think - I think you can just, warn me before you…”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Okay.” Dan sets his jaw. Arin relaxes the pressure on his head and Dan sinks back down on him, sucking hard, cheeks hollowing. Arin cries out and feels his balls drawing up close, and then Dan’s tongue is working the underside and it’s all just so _good_ , he can’t hold back anymore.

He tugs Dan’s hair and gasps, “Here it comes” half a second before it does. Dan makes one sharp muffled noise of surprise and his throat visibly works as he swallows once, twice, three times. His lips are still wrapped around Arin’s cock, and when he finally pulls off, a thin white trickle spills from the corner of his mouth. Dan, looking dazed, wipes it away with the back of his hand and blushes to see Arin staring at him open-mouthed.

“Fuck,” Arin gulps for air. “Fuck.”

“Was it good?”

“Dude, I just shot my jism down your throat, of course it was good.”

“Ew, don’t call it _jism._ ” Dan makes a face and shoves Arin’s shoulder playfully.

“What about baby batter?”

Dan screws his eyes shut and says, “Oh _no_ , no no, that’s way worse. I can still taste it.”

“You can still taste my love custard?”

“I am never sucking your dick again, holy shit.”

Arin loves that this works. That they can just go from blowjobs to banter. It’s just _them_ , and nothing’s going to change that. They snuggle up next to each other as Arin catches his breath, and it’s nice to just float there in content silence.

Maybe they fall asleep. Maybe they don’t. Arin’s not sure. He doesn’t really care.

Then out of nowhere, Dan says, “Ow.”

Arin looks at Dan, worried. “Ow?”

Dan touches the faint red mark on his hip, presses on it with a finger and hisses. “It’s sore.”

“Yeah, you idiot,“ Arin says fondly. “Because you’re poking it.”

Dan does it again, frowning, and Arin snorts.

“I think you like being sore,” he accuses, and when Dan immediately goes red, Arin‘s mind dives straight into the gutter. 

“You should kiss it better,” Dan tells him.

“Should I?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Fuckin’ princess.” Arin props himself up on an elbow and leans down to kiss Dan’s hip. He kisses the other one, too, just for good measure, and then he trails his mouth up Dan’s body to kiss the faint suck mark on his neck. Dan makes a pleased hum.

“Does it hurt anywhere else?” Arin asks.

“Mmm.” Dan stretches out languidly, so fucking gorgeous when he looks at Arin with his half-lidded eyes. “Yeah, I think you missed a spot.”

“Where is it?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Dan grins. “Why don’t you try to find it yourself? I’ll let you know if you land on it.”

Arin rolls his eyes. “Challenge accepted.”

Dan lays peacefully, smiling as Arin kisses a line up from his thigh to his neck. He’s all pliable, letting Arin roll him over, moaning nicely when Arin kisses across his shoulder blades. His noises reverberate through Arin’s groin and before he knows it he’s getting hard again already, fuck.

His hands slide over Dan’s ass roughly, and he kisses each cheek. Dan’s muscles go taut and he giggles. “Arin, your beard fuckin’ tickles, holy shit.”

Arin doesn’t stop. He presses his mouth to where Dan’s ass meets his thigh, follows the line in until his nose brushes into Dan’s cleft, and that’s when Dan stops laughing and moans again, shakily.

“What are you doing, Arin?”

“You wanted my mouth on you, didn’t you?”

Dan’s hips still. “Oh, holy fucking shit.”

“Is that a no?” Arin asks, because he can’t not. “Do you want this?”

“Arin, I…” Dan buries his face in his arms and his back heaves as he gasps for air.

“I need to hear it. Need you to tell me.”

Dan gulps air noisily. It takes a long time for him to reply. Arin waits on tenterhooks, trembling. Finally, Dan whimpers, “Yes, okay, I want it.”

Arin spreads him with his index finger and thumb and Dan whimpers again, writhing a little bit without actually struggling. Arin, transfixed, watches the small hole clench at the feeling of being exposed to the air. He barely knows what he’s doing, but he puts both palms flat on Dan’s pert ass and holds him open as he goes in, tongue lapping wetly over Dan’s hole.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Dan’s hips twitch crazily. Arin can smell his arousal, knows he’s hard again too. Arin’s own cock is being neglected, but that doesn’t really matter because every time Arin flexes his tongue, Dan calls out his name, and that’s kind of way more important than pleasuring himself. 

It doesn’t last long. Arin works him with lips and tongue as Dan humps the mattress until he comes for a second time, twitching and gasping and breathing hard.

Arin lifts his face, his chin and lips wet with his own saliva. His handprints are imprinted in red on Dan’s pale skin. 

“Holy shit,” Dan says for the hundredth time, muffled. His face is buried in the pillow.

“Was that - ” Arin wets his lips. “Was that okay?”

“I had no idea.” Dan’s back heaves. “I…nobody’s ever done that to me, I never knew…oh…”

It gets Arin so fucking hard, thinking about how he’s the only one who’s ever gotten to touch that part of Dan - that he’s the first person to make him come that way. He pulls himself up to get on top of Dan, his chest pressed to Dan’s back, and he angles his aching cock so that it slips between Dan’s upper thighs.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathes. “Fuck fuck fuck.” He ruts hard, driving his dick into the tight crevice.

Dan gasps once, and then flexes his thighs, squeezing them together as tight as he can. “Come on, Arin,” he urges. “Come on, fuck. A little higher, maybe, you could - ”

“Yeah?” Arin doesn’t waste time. He spits in his hand, works it over his dick, and nestles it into Dan’s cleft. When he thrusts forward, his cock slides between Dan’s cheeks. Arin looks down, watching himself fuck the cleft of Dan’s ass. Heat coils in his groin and he has to close his eyes, can’t handle the intensity of what he’s seeing. 

Dan starts to moan, little muffled noises, and Arin wonders if he’s thinking about it too. Wonders if Dan’s imagining Arin’s hard cock driving into him, opening him up, filling him to the brim. Arin’s making noises too, desperate grunts that can’t possibly be sexy, but he can’t help it and he doesn’t care. Dan’s trying to make it better for him, clenching his muscles to increase the pressure on Arin’s dick. 

“Want to fuck you so fucking bad,” Arin pants, his lower body falling onto Dan’s back. “God, Dan, want to put it in you, bet you’re so fucking tight.”

“Next time,” Dan gasps out. “Next time, you can, if you put your mouth on me again first, I’ll let you.”

“Oh,” Arin gasps, shuddering. “ _Oh._ ”

And he comes for the second time in twenty minutes, spurting up onto Dan’s lower back. Of course, once his arms give out, he ends up falling into it, slick and warm on his stomach.

They lay like that until Dan murmurs, “You’re a little heavy” and Arin rolls off obediently. He’s totally spent, totally boneless, and he stares up at the ceiling blankly as his brain cells try to remember how to work.

“Hey,” Dan whispers, snuggling up to his side. “You’re zoning again.”

“Mmm.” Arin smiles dazedly. “Yeah, maybe I am.”

“That was - holy shit, Arin.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I fuckin’ know.” 

“Should we clean up?”

Arin grabs a handful of the sheets and wipes off his stomach and dick. 

“Ew, Arin,” Dan says, but follows suit. “You’re gonna wash these sheets before Suzy sleeps on them, right?”

“Probably, yeah. Dunno when. I don’t think my legs work any more.”

Dan giggles. “Same. You wanna take a nap with me?”

“Hell yeah, dude.”

“Two tickets to sleepy time junction,” Dan says, and lays his head on Arin’s shoulder. “All aboard.”

Arin closes his eyes and wonders if life could ever get any better than this.


End file.
